An Answer and a Price
by Tey'Imena
Summary: "All magic has a price. And what magic starts, magic must end." Merlin, Arthur, and Sir Owen receive an unexpected visitor the night before Owen's duel. But only Merlin remembers what was discussed. {Drabble around S2E1: "The Curse of Cornelius Sigan", in the same universe as "On the Road to Jericho"; one-shot; gen fic; OC character as plot device.}


Officially this is a drabble set around Series 2, Episode 1: "The Curse of Cornelius Sigan". But it kind of also ties into the universe of another _Merlin_ drabble of mine: On the Road to Jericho. So. Uh. This may turn into A Thing, at some point.

 **An Answer and a Price  
_ _ _ _**

Sir Owen stands in the middle of Arthur's chamber and says, "You can thank the Lady Morgana, and tell her that I shall wear her token with pride. But I won't need luck."

"Oh, you're good all right," says a new voice, a strange voice, a _woman's_ voice, "but you're not going to be good enough. You'll need all the luck you can get."

Owen and Arthur whirl, their backs immediately to each other.

"Besides," the woman's voice continues, "it's not really a fair fight at all, now."

"Show yourself," Arthur growls, the fresh weight of _Crown Prince_ upon him just as heavily as the weight of Owen against his back and just as warmly as Merlin's presence to their side.

"Oh, _no_ ," Merlin groans under his breath, raising his hands enough to drop his head down on them. "No, no, _no_."

"Oh, _yes_ ," the voice repeats. "Yes, yes, _yes_." And then there is a woman sitting in Arthur's chair, at Arthur's table, here in Arthur's chamber; a woman with dark, dark eyes and scarlet lips, and hair like earth tumbling past her hips. And she gives not one bit of seeming to be upset by having two armed and aggressive knights in close quarters.

"No," Merlin repeats firmly, as Arthur and Owen glance between the two—between manservant and stranger.

"Yes," the woman says, just as firmly, and with what Arthur feels is an unhealthy dose of amusement. "It's _not_ a fair fight!" she repeats to Merlin, who shakes his head. "Oh, come on, you knew something was off the moment that old corpse came through the window."

"Even so—" Merlin beings.

"Hold on," Arthur interrupts.

" _Corpse?_ " Owen asks, his voice coming out somewhat strangled.

"What?" The woman blinks at him. "Oh right. You're still here." Arthur opens his mouth to take umbrage, and Owen's face darkens impressively with rage, but she continues. "Yes, _corpse_. It's not a fair fight because he challenged to you a duel to the death."

"That's how duels usually _are_!" Merlin bursts out, arms flailing. For once, Arthur simply nods in agreement.

The woman snorts.

"Yes, except usually _both_ parties are _alive_ to begin with," she drawls as she props one of her elbows on the edge of the table, and then rests her chin on the palm of her hand.

" _What?_ " That was Merlin, Arthur, and Owen all at once. Her response is merely to nod at them.

"Exactly. It's not a fair fight because he's _already dead._ "

"Dead men can't come back to life," Arthur says scornfully, unknowingly echoing Uther's own words to Gaius, hours earlier. He misses the hard swallow Merlin takes as the manservant stares at the woman.

"Not quite true," she says simply. "Dead men cannot come back to life— _on their own._ " A shivery kind of stillness spills through the room after her words as the three men stare back at her. "Anything can be done for a proper price. You just have to have someone willing to pay for it." There is an echo in her voice; some hint of thunder and silence, of sweetness and of sharp edges. It sends a wary spark down Arthur's spine, and Owen's eyes narrow.

Neither notices the way that Merlin's eyes sharpen and flash at their strange 'guest', but they do notice the way she grins. Their hands tighten on the hilts of their swords as she rises from the chair, then, and shakes out her cloak.

"So what you must do now is answer this question: who wants something badly enough to raise the dead?" She looks each of them in the eyes, lingering just briefly with Merlin. "The price for necromancy is a steep one; almost steeper than the price for life. What could a person want that would drive them to raise the dead, and then have that corpse challenge a knight to a death duel?" This time she _only_ looks at Merlin, which leaves Arthur and Owen feeling slightly as if they are seeing something that they should not, intruding on some private conversation.

She asks again, "Why send a dead knight to Camelot, the night a Crown Prince is chosen, and have a gauntlet thrown at his feet?" Merlin blinks, once—twice—and then his face drains, leaving his eyes to stand out like chips of sapphire against his whitened skin. He swallows hard, again, and then turns his gaze to Arthur.

"Why, indeed?" Merlin whispers, staring at his prince. "Why else?"

" _Mer_ lin," Arthur huffs, and then says nothing more as his eyes roll back in his head. Merlin watches as both he and Owen collapse slowly to the floor, and then he raises his eyes to the woman.

"I didn't do that," he says in a conversational tone.

"No," the woman replies, equally conversational. "You did not. That was me. It will also be me when they do not remember this conversation."

Merlin opens his mouth to say something, and is cut off by her fingers pressing lightly against his lips.

"No," she says. "We can't have them realizing too soon. But you… you need to know." She withdraws her fingers, and her whole countenance, not just her face, almost seems to sag and slump over. "You _must_ know."

"What must I know?" Merlin asks, his fear in this whole ridiculous situation in general and his specific worry over the Crown Prince in particular making his voice much snappier than usual. "What is so important?"

"All magic has a price," the woman says, and the urgency in her voice heightens that latent, echoing sensation of thunder and silence. "And what magic starts, magic must end." Her eyes bore into Merlin's. "Find the key," she says, her voice dropping into a sudden growl. "Find the price and the answer, and use them to find the sword. Bring it—bring _me_ —to the Once and Future King, and bring an end to this business."

Merlin feels the magic within him rise, twisting and spreading and dancing in response to this woman's voice, to her command, to her charge, and he hears himself say, "I will."

And then he blinks and Arthur and Owen are upright, frozen in the same positions they had been in when this conversation began; and then Merlin blinks again and their eyes are open, but she is still here, and she smiles at Merlin; and then Merlin blinks again and she is gone, and Owen is once again saying,

"You can thank the Lady Morgana, and tell her that I shall wear her token with pride. But I won't need luck."

 **END  
**


End file.
